The Reign of King Oberon

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The True Annals of Fairyland

The Reign of KING OBERON

Edited by Walter Jerrold Illustrated by Charles Robinson

London & Toronto J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co. Inc.

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PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

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Preface

My Dear Young Folks,

Here are some more stories from the wonderful Annals of Fairyland. How they were first told at the Court of King Oberon, and how they came to be recorded you will learn at the beginning, and much as you love the little people you will, I think, like them even better when you have learned all that this volume has to tell. Mr William Canton has told you the stories properly belonging to “The Reign of King Herla,” Mr J. M. Gibbon showed you how a famous merry old soul and his court found entertainment in story-telling in “The Reign of King Cole,” and now it is my pleasant privilege to put before you, from the inexhaustible Annals, those tales which properly belong to “The Reign of King Oberon.”

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Of course you may have already met some of these stories before, for most of our best writers have been made free of Fairyland and have written of the wonderful things they learned there; Hans Christian Andersen and the Brothers Grimm have long since been famous for all that they have told of their visits to the marvellous land, and some of the stories which they brought back will be found to belong to the reign of Oberon and Titania, while others have been told by Ben Jonson, by Thomas Hood, by Charles Perrault, by Thomas Crofton Croker, by Douglas Jerrold, by Benjamin Thorpe and by Sir George Dasent—but old or new all have the perennial youthfulness of the fairies themselves, and as long as we can truly enjoy them we shall not grow old.

The Editor.

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DedicationTo My Children

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List of Illustrations

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The Reign of King Oberon

In all the annals of Fairyland nothing is more wonderful—and the annals are found in many hundreds of volumes—than that chapter which tells of the reign of the true fairy King Oberon and his beautiful wife Titania, who is sometimes called Queen Mab. Marvellous are the doings of Oberon’s little subjects in every land—good fairies and bad fairies, dwarfs, elves and sprites, brownies, pixies and gnomes, pucks, trolls and kobolds and Robin Goodfellow—and marvellous(3) are the tales which have been told of them by travellers in the fairy realms.

Now, once upon a time there was sadness throughout the whole kingdom of Oberon—and his kingdom has no boundaries—because of a quarrel which had arisen between the king and the queen. It was a very small matter to begin with, but the king was a king and did not think it consorted with his dignity as such that his will should not be law, while the lovely Queen Titania thought that even the powerful king of the fairies should give way to her wishes. A small Indian prince, a dusky child, son of a mighty monarch of the East, had been stolen and a fairy baby left in its place and King Oberon wanted the changeling to be one of the knights of his train, while Queen Titania insisted on keeping him as one of her pages. Long and bitter was the quarrel but neither(4) king nor queen would give way, and at length they parted and half the fairies marched off under the banner of the king and half under the banner of the queen.

Now you know of course that it was the fairies that looked after all things, the flowers and the trees, the streams and lakes, the little birds and beasts, and even—though they might not be aware of it—after the doings of many men and women; thus when it befel that their king and queen quarrelled and all the fairies rallied to their separate courts everything was neglected: the corn died unripened, the grass withered in the fields, so that the flocks and herds starved, the summers were cold and wet, the winters were sickly and mild, and many good men, women and children lost their tempers and became troublesome and unhappy they knew not why, and certainly never imagined that it was all because of a quarrel between the rulers of the world-wide kingdom of Fairy.

For a long time it seemed as though the king and queen would not be reconciled. When they met Oberon would say, “I do but beg a little changeling boy to be my henchman”; and Titania would reply, “Set your heart at rest, the Fairyland buys not the child of me.” And again(5) the king would say, “Give me the boy and I will go with thee”; and the queen would answer, “Not for thy fairy kingdom.” Luckily Oberon by means of his fairy-arts was finally able to win his way and gain the little changeling for his retinue, the king and queen were reconciled and all the fairies returned to their happy work: the crops and grass revived, flowers bloomed everywhere, the birds sang, summer was once more warm and sunny, and winter once more white and frosty, while men, women and children suddenly regained their good tempers, knowing as little why they did so as why they had lost them. All the world was indeed once again bright and happy as it should be. Great was the rejoicing throughout the realm of Fairyland, and greater still it became when King Oberon summoned to his court all

his subjects from all parts of the world to celebrate the reconciliation. Quick as thought his wish was made known by Ariel and Puck his ready messengers, and at once all the little people were hurrying to obey the monarch’s behest, and within the forty minutes which Puck takes to put a girdle round about the earth all had assembled. Then there was such a sight of wonderful splendour as would have astonished human eyes: there(6) in beautiful colours were fairies from the flowers and the rainbows, from streams and woodland, elves, dwarfs and gnomes from caves under the earth where gold is hammered and precious stones are made; there were pixies and brownies and quaint little sprites innumerable; there was Cinderella’s fairy godmother, and there was Allwise the dwarf who wanted to marry Thor’s daughter; there was Robin Goodfellow, and there was Ariel; there were Titania’s attendant fairies Peaseblossom and Cobweb, Moth and Mustardseed; there was Thumbeline and the fairy Prince her husband, and Hop-o-my-Thumb, and Thumbling;

there were the King’s courtiers—Perriwiggin, Perriwincle, Puck, Hob-Goblin, Tomalin and Tom-Thumb; there were the Queen’s maids of honour—Hop, Mop, Drop, Pip, Drip, Skip, Tub, Tib, Tick, Pink, Pin, Quick, Gill, Un, Tit, Wap, Win, Wit with Nymphidia the mother of the maids—but if I were to give you a list of all the different fairies who gathered about Oberon’s court I should fill up this book and leave no room for any stories or for Mr Robinson’s illustrations.

There were, to put it shortly, all the fairies that ever lived, all the fairies that you ever knew, told of in tales or dreamed of in dreams, and a marvellous sight it would have been if we could have seen them gathered about the fairy palace of King Oberon. Everyone knew everyone else, and many were the stories told of elfish mischief and of benefits done to good people by their attendant fairies. Oberon and Titania passing along, talking to their happy subjects and attended by the changeling boy who had caused so much trouble, overheard one of these stories, and turning to his queen, the king said: “My Titania, shall we not hear some of these stories which our people can tell of their doings with men, women and children in the world of big folk?” Titania readily agreed that it would be delightful; and elfin trumpeters passed amid the multitude and blew their horns, and said that all were to arrange themselves in the great Fairy Ring and were to be prepared to tell stories until the dawn. Then there(11) was a pretty hustling and bustling of merry crowds jostling

and soon all were arranged in circles about the great Fairy Ring, and Oberon and Titania ascended a throne which was beautifully formed of sweet-scented flowers that never faded. At the foot of the throne a stool was placed, and on it the story-tellers were to sit while amusing the Court; such was the magic of the circle that though the fairy speaking only addressed himself to the king and queen, his voice was heard even by the fairies furthest away, on the very outermost part of the ring. Happily for us the changeling boy was there sitting on the steps of the throne, and when, years afterwards, he found his way back to his father’s kingdom, he wrote down all the wonderful stories he had heard at the Court of King Oberon, and they have since been translated into many tongues by many writers, so that some of them will no doubt be familiar to you. Here, however, we have the stories just as Oberon’s changeling wrote them down, and the first story was repeated by a Scandinavian dwarf out of the cold north, who told how it was that the great hero Thor got

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The Gifts of the Dwarfs

Thor was, as you know, the strongest and noblest of the great giants of the north. He was tall in stature and had fiery brown eyes, from which the light flashed like lightning, while his long red beard waved through the sky as he drove in his goat-drawn chariot. Brilliant sparks flew from the hoofs and teeth of the two goats, while a crown of bright stars shone above Thor’s head. When he was angered the wheels of his chariot rumbled and crashed their passage through the air, until men trembled and hid, telling each other that Thor had gone to battle with the Rime-giants or other of his enemies. Now Thor’s wife was named Sib, and she was most beautiful to look upon. Her soft, browny-gold hair was so long and thick that it would cover her from the crown of her head to her little feet, and her deep brown eyes looked into the faces of her friends as those of a mother look into the face of(13) her child. Loki, the mischief-maker among the giants, often looked at Sib and longed to do her some evil, for he was jealous, thinking that it was not right that

she should be praised and loved by everyone; go where he would he could find no one who did not speak well of her.

It happened one day when the summer was nearly gone that Loki found Sib alone and sleeping on a bank near the river, so he drew his knife, and creeping softly nearer and nearer, cut off her beautiful flowing hair quite close to her head. Then he joyfully rushed away and strewed it far and wide over the whole earth, so that it became no longer living and golden but faded and turned a dull colour as the winds blew it about and the rains beat upon it, and crushed it in between the rocks and stones. When Sib awoke and was about to push the hair from her face, she felt that something was wrong. Wonderingly she ran to the water and looking at her reflection in the clear depths, saw that nothing but a short stubble stood up all over her head. All her lovely hair was gone! Only one would have dared to treat her so badly, and in her grief and anger she called upon Thor to come to her aid.

Loki had of course fled and was hiding far away in another country among the rocks when he heard the distant rumblings of thunder, and tried to shrink deeper into the crevices between the great stones, but the awful sound grew louder, and at last the angry flash from Thor’s eyes darted to the very spot where the mischievous one lay. Then Thor pulled him out and shook him from side to side in his enormous hands, and would have crushed his bones upon the hard rocks had not Loki in great terror asked what good his death would do, for it certainly would not bring Sib’s hair back. Then Thor set the mischief-maker on his feet, though still keeping a tight hold on him, and asked what he would do to repair the evil which he had done. Loki promptly answered that he would go down into the mountains to the dwarfs, and get Iwald’s sons to make some golden(14) hair for Sib, as good as that which he had destroyed. Now Iwald had had seven sons, and these all lived deep below the earth in the great caverns which lie below the mountains, and these sons were small and

dark; they did not like the daylight for they were little dwarfs who could see best without the sun to dazzle their eyes; they knew where gold and silver grew, and they could tell where to find beautiful shining stones, which were red, and white, and yellow, and green; they knew the way all over the world by running through caverns and passages under the mountains, and wherever they could find precious stones or metals they built a furnace, and made an anvil, and hammer and bellows, and everything that was wanted in a smithy; for they knew how to fashion the most wonderful things from gold and iron and stone, and they had knowledge which made them more powerful than the people who lived above the ground.

Thor let the mischief-maker go to get the help of the dwarfs to repair the wrong which he had done, and Loki sought about the mountain-side until he found a hole which would lead him into Iwald’s cave, and then he promptly dropped into it. There in a dark cave gleaming with many sparkling lights he went to the two cleverest dwarfs who were named Sindri and Brok, and told them what it was he wanted, adding that he would be in sore trouble with Thor if they could not help him. Now Sindri and Brok knew all about Loki perfectly well; they knew all about his mischievous ways and the evil he so often wrought, but as they liked Thor and Sib they were willing to give the help which was asked of them. Thus without more ado, for these dwarfs never wasted their words, Sindri and Brok began their work.

Huge blocks of earth-brown stone were cast into the furnace until they were in a white heat, when drop by drop red gold trickled from them into the ashes. This was all gathered together, and the glistening heap taken to the dwarf women, who, crushing it in their hands before it had(15) hardened, drew it out upon their wheels, and spun it into fine soft hair. While they were doing this Brok sought amongst his treasures until he found the blue of the ocean and the tough inner pith of an underground tree; these, with other things, were cast into the furnace, and afterwards beaten with his hammer. As the rhythmic strokes fell, the women sang a song which was like the voice of a strong, steady wind. Then when this work was finished, the smith drew forth a little ship, which was carefully placed on one side. The third time the dwarf went to a dark corner, and brought out an ugly bent bar of iron, and this, with two feathers from the wings of the wind, was heated to melting whiteness, and wrought with great cunning and extreme care, for it was to be a spear for

Odin himself, the greatest of all the Heroes.

Then Brok and Sindri called Loki to them and giving him these three things bade him hasten back to the Heroes at Asgard and appease their wrath. Loki, however, was already beginning to feel sorry that he had been so successful; he liked teasing folk but he did not like having to atone for his mischief afterwards. He turned the marvellous gifts over scornfully in his hands, and said that he did not see anything very wonderful in them; then, looking at Sindri he added, “However, Brok has hammered them very skilfully, and I will wager my head that you could not make anything better.”

Now the brother dwarfs had not by any means expected gratitude, but neither had they expected any such rudeness as this, so Sindri determined to give Loki a lesson. Going to one corner of the smithy he picked up a pig-skin and taking the hammer in his hands, told his brother to blow steadily, neither to falter nor to fail until he passed the word that the work was done. Then with strength and gentleness he wrought with his tools, having cast nothing into the heat but the pig-skin; with mighty blows and delicate touches he brought thickness and substance into it, until a boar looked at him from the flames. Loki, fearing for his head, changed himself into an enormous(16) forest fly, and settling upon Brok’s hand, stung with vicious fury; but the dwarf would not trouble to brush the fly away, and steadily moved the bellows until his brother called to him to stop, when they drew forth a strong flexible boar whose bristles were of the finest gold.

Then without saying anything or paying any attention to the spiteful words which Loki kept uttering, Sindri chose from a heap of gold the most solid lump he could find and flung it into the white flames. Thrice it was heated and cooled, and the dark elf turned it and worked it with wonderful skill, and in the glow Loki saw a broad red ring, which seemed to live and move. Again he tried to spoil the work as a fly, and bit deeply into Brok’s neck, but Brok would not so much as raise his hand to rid him of the pain. When the ring was finally laid to cool, so marvellously had it been wrought that from it each ninth night would fall eight rings as beautiful as itself.

Now came the last test of Sindri’s cunning. He cast into the furnace a piece of fine iron, and told Brok his hand must neither tremble nor stay, or the whole of their work would be useless. Then with wild songs of strength upon his lips he hammered and tapped, until those who were in the cave felt that they were out among the roaring waves; they could hear the ice mountains grind and crash to pieces, and the thunder of Thor’s chariot wheels rushing through the heavens. A frenzied horror seized upon Loki’s mind. If these wretched dwarfs were going to make anything to add to Thor’s strength he knew that it would be his own ruin. So, changing himself to a hornet, he sprang upon the forehead of Brok, and dug so fiercely into his eyelids that the blood trickled down and blinded him. Then the dwarf let go of the bellows for one moment to clear his eyes, and Sindri cried out that what lay in the furnace came near to being spoiled, and with that he took a red-hot hammer up with his tongs. It was neither pretty, nor particularly large, while the handle was

an inch too short because of Loki’s spite.

Then Brok and Loki set out for Asgard, Loki carrying(19) the three wonderful things which had been given to him, while Brok carried the three marvels which Sindri had so cunningly wrought and accompanied the mischief-maker, that the Heroes might judge who had won the wager so rashly offered by Loki. When they reached Asgard the Heroes seated themselves on their high seats agreeing among themselves that Odin, Thor and Frey should be judges in this case.

First, Loki offered to Odin the spear Gungner which was so wonderfully made that it never failed to hit the thing at which it was thrown, and it always sped back to the hand which had thrown it. Later, when Odin carried this spear in battle, if he shook it over his enemies they became so frightened that they all wanted to run away, but if he shook it over his friends they were so filled with courage that they could not be conquered. Then Thor received the hair, and when it was placed upon Sib’s head it grew to her like living tresses, curling and waving in the wind. To Frey the ship was given, and though it was so small that it could be folded and carried in his pocket, when it was placed upon the waves it would grow large enough to hold an army of warriors with all their war gear; besides, as soon as the sails were hoisted, the wind would blow it whithersoever it was desired that the ship should go.